by Nick Younker
Linton had learned these lessons from both of his folks. Even after his dad vanished more than 20 years ago, his mother continued to teach him those values. His mom and dad were practically one and the same. That’s probably why they fell in love, Linton surmised. They both wanted the same things out of life.
Only later, when he became a teenager, did Linton learn his mother kept those cabins ready at all times to house battered women and their children, who were on the run following a dirty court judgment. It was a safe place for them to come and hide until the next stop on their journey, the journey that would lead them to a better life, away from those who hurt them. Not once did Linton ever consider that the law might catch up with his family on this. Not once did Linton ever consider his mother or his father were criminals who aided and abetted women guilty of kidnapping. He trusted and supported them, both before and after his law enforcement career began. Even Sheriff Kramer knew the secret and went to great lengths to keep it hidden.
He wasn’t just nervous to be standing at Brad Oxley’s front door, about to pry into his life like no one probably ever had before. He was also nervous about tonight, when he would take Kelly and Lucy to Derbie for an overnight. Lucy had taken well to Carolyn, so he assumed that she had made up a room inside the big house for her to sleep in. It was just going to be him and Kelly out in that cabin together. Alone. And the thought of making love to her, well, he had never experienced a dull moment in bed with Kelly. But he was also going to let her in on a part of his life, his family’s life, that could either make or break them, depending on how she took the news. He was going to tell her tonight what the reservation had really been used for.
He knocked again and after nearly a minute, Brad answered with a bottle of bourbon in his hand. He was dressed in blue jogging pants and a Kentucky Wildcats sweatshirt, and he looked like he hadn’t had a shower in a few days. When he opened the door, he stumbled outward bit, and before Linton had a chance to try to get invited into the house, they were both on the porch and the door had closed behind him.
“Can I help you, Linton?” Brad said.
“Well,” he began, and that was all Linton could get out before they heard all three BMX bikes rambling along out the side yard and directly over to the bluff trail.
Brad went to the side of the porch, leaned over it with his bourbon and yelled, “All those cans had better be smashed and in the back of my truck, or I will hunt you down and give you the belt!”
Brad turned around and stumbled over the bag of cans that Linton had brought for him. He regained his footing and walked down the front steps and around to the garage, where his rusty old ’60s model step-side Chevy pickup truck was positioned so the boys could smash the cans in the garage and throw them in the back.
Linton had followed him with his own bag of cans, and by the time he reached him, Brad was leaning against the loaded truck. He seemed to be resting, or out of breath. The job was obviously done.
“What do you want, Linton? You here to bust my chops about me and my boys? What is it?”
Linton approached him slowly and held the bag of cans out to him.
“Well, first of all, I brought you this bag from the bluff trail. Found the leftovers of a party out there and I thought you guys could use them.”
Brad tried to focus in on the bag and Linton for a moment, and then grabbed the bag and tossed it over the bed into the truck. “Thanks,” he said, and started back into the house.
He had made it all the way up the steps to his back door when Linton tried to speak to him again.
“You know, Brad, I just wanted to check in with you, also. Just to see if everything was all right . . .”
Brad didn’t even turn around before he went in the house and slammed the door shut. It was as if Linton wasn’t even there.
Linton hesitated to leave for a second, but he also realized that if he had accomplished anything, he at least let Brad know he was on his radar. So he went ahead and left.
***
7
A wave of dust formed along the bluff trail as Joe, Noah and Dean thundered down the path on their BMXs, Mark on Dean’s tote pegs. They were trying to gain as much speed as they could so when they approached the path to Floating Asshole, they could roar over the top of it like mountain kings and feel their assholes suck up into their stomachs.
The first one up the hill was Joe. With a thundering scream, he scaled the summit and cocked his bike sideways in the air. When he landed, he quickly pedaled off to the side because Noah was right on his tail and was sure to already be on his way down. Joe skidded to a stop, and not even half a second later, Noah skidded beside him. They could hear Dean in mid-air, with Mark on his tail pegs.
“Whooo-hoo!”
Dean landed on the bottom of the hill hard, and that was enough to send Mark flying into the dirt.
Dean dropped his bike and ran over to see if Mark was okay. Mark was lying on his belly. He slowly rolled over. Dean and Noah tried to help him sit up, but Mark didn’t want to. He’d had the wind knocked out of him and he was trying to get it back.
“You okay, Bub?” Dean asked. “Can you breathe?”
Mark waved him off and Joe instantly knew what was wrong.
“You have to give him a minute. He got the air knocked out of him and he’s just trying to catch a breath,” Joe explained. He kneeled down and pulled the backpack off Mark’s back and put his hand on his shoulder. “Just slow it down a little bit and let the air come back to you naturally, Mark. If you try to force it, you’ll just make it worse. Just let it come naturally, buddy.”
Even though Mark was visibly panicked, Joe’s words calmed him, and after a few moments he got his wind back. They helped him stand up and they were all a little relieved. They all knew, but didn’t say, that some terrible thing had yet again happened to Mark, as if he were a magnet for bad shit. That’s why they all cared so much about him and always let him be there with them. They felt as though they had to protect him from some unknown force.
Fortunately, they were right where they wanted to be: on the south side of Floating Asshole. This was the best place to hide their bikes and make the walk out to the sinkholes.
Dean took the bungee cords off the jambox, which had been secured against his handlebars for the bike trip. He handed it over to Mark, who turned it on. The dial wheel must have been thrown off in the commotion, or when Brad Oxley pummeled it against the wall of the ’Bend, because Mark had to fine-tune it to get back to RBT-FM. One thing was certain: the recorder hadn’t worked since Brad’s tantrum that morning, and the cassette was stuck inside with the tape wrapped around the heads. That was something Dean had already promised Mark he would take apart and fix the next time he got a chance.
They all took off for the sinkholes and Mark started to lag behind while he tried to get the radio tuned. It wouldn’t pick up a signal; it just kept going to static.
“Just wait until we get out of these trees. It won’t pick up a signal until we get out into the wastelands,” Dean said. The wastelands were the semi-barren lands that didn’t have any tree growth, just junk brambles and brush.
Mark still fidgeted with it the whole way, until they reached the plateau just before the sinkholes. He got it tuned about the same time Radiohead started to play.
(Creep)
“So do you guys want to climb down this time? I hear that these sinkholes are happening because the mine company didn’t fill in the tunnels and air shafts,” Joe said.
“Yeah, you’re right. My old man said they didn’t want to spend any more money and just left them there,” Noah said.
“That’s right. Those fucking scumbags just left them to fall in and they could care less if it killed someone in the process,” Joe said.
“Yeah, it’s all about their greedy money. They came in and ravaged our land and left us with a shit-pile to clean up while they walk away with all the money,” Dean said.
“Right, guys. I know. Fucking scumbags!” Mark sai
d.
As they approached the highwall by the sinkhole, they saw a small group of teens messing around, trying to start a campfire. Their music was blaring from a Chevy truck with large mud tires and a suspension lift.
Mark started to lag behind, but Joe could see it was the Brownsman crew, and he knew they wouldn’t mess with them. He turned to Mark and reassured him.
“Don’t worry, man. That’s Mike Brownsman and his crew. They’re cool.”
That was something Mark already knew, but he still felt a little skittish. He may not have had a bike for them to throw over, but he did have his backpack with all of their supplies in it, including a canteen, flashlights, gloves and peanuts in case they got hungry.
Dean and Noah were also sure they wouldn’t catch any shit from the group, but they all started to pull together a bit with Mark in the middle, just to be sure.
As they approached, they could see it was just the main five from their crew, which included Mike Brownsman, Kurt Peters, Rush Amiano, Kate Liddel and Carrie LeBalte. The teens had seen them at the sinkholes many times and they had always been nice to the boys.
Even though they would have liked to, the boys couldn’t just pass by without at least saying hello. So before they started down the sinkhole, they stopped in. Rush Amiano saw them coming and walked up to meet them.
“Hey, boys. It’s good to see you four out here again. We don’t ever see Bret Holder out here anymore,” Rush said.
Joe walked up and gave Rush some skin. So did Noah and Dean. Mark stayed behind them and tried to stay hidden.
“It’s good to see you too, Rush. What are you and Brownsman up to today?” Joe said.
Rush took a look back at Mike, who was trying to get the fire going, and then looked back at Joe with a smile.
“Just drinking some beer with the ladies and trying to do a little Boy Scouting.”
That gave them all a laugh. Rush peeked around Dean’s shoulder and saw Mark. He walked around him and ruffled Mark’s Indiana Hoosier hat.
“How are ya, little dude? You didn’t let that asshole Bret Holder scare you off from here, did ya?”
Mark shrugged his shoulders and drifted behind Dean. Rush faced Dean and gave him a sympathetic smile.
“Yeah, I wasn’t there, but I heard what he did.” He faced Mark and squatted a little to get to his eye level. “You know, that guy has been a dick to everyone that comes out here at least once. Hell, when I was your age he forced my candy-striped Cheaney number 40 jersey off my back and threw it over the wall. We’ve all had to deal with his shit at one point or another. Don’t let him scare you away. We’ll take up for you.”
That made Mark smile.
“Besides, I heard he’s locked up over the Co-op and he’s about to get shipped off to do a stint in Terre Haute,” Rush said as he fidgeted with Mark’s hat again and smiled.
Mark smiled right back at him.
“Good! I hope he gets ass-raped!” Mark said to thunderous laughs from the rest of the gang.
Carrie LeBalte walked up to join the conversation. Joe, Noah and Dean all stopped laughing when she approached. They all three had spent several nights standing over a bathroom toilet thinking about her.
“Okay, what’s so funny over here?” Carrie said as she walked into Rush’s arms and kissed him.
“Oh, you know. Just guy stuff,” Rush said and winked at the boys. But Joe, Noah and Dean didn’t see him because they were in awe of Carrie, standing there in front of them in her low-cut jean shorts, her luscious brown hair blowing in the wind. To them she seemed just like the women they saw in the Hustler magazines Brad Oxley kept hidden in the rafters of the garage (as if they weren’t going to find those the second he moved in early last year).
One look at those three boys and Rush knew exactly what had hold of them. He snapped in front of the boys’ faces and brought them back into the conversation.
“Guy stuff! Yeah! That’s it,” Noah said.
Carrie was flattered at the sentiment, but she was more curious what Mark had with him.
“Hey, whatcha got in there, little Chapman?” Carrie said, motioning toward his backpack.
“Nothing much, really, just some supplies for the tunnels,” Mark said as Joe gave him a nasty too much information was revealed grin.
“What tunnels?” Carrie said.
“Ohh! You boys are here to explore the sinkhole! That’s awesome, man! Something I totally would have done at your age!” Rush high-fived Mark.
“Did you ever go in?” Joe asked.
“Not from this end. We went in the other end that comes out in the TC. If you walk into the woods on the east side of it, you’ll find a large air vent that’s overgrown with brush and weeds. But we always thought of that end as the entrance. I guess we never even considered the sinkholes on this end were part of the old coal tunnels.”
“How far did you go in?”
“Not very far. It was dark in there and we could also smell some sort of gas. Mike over there liked to smoke back then and we just knew he would end up lighting one and the whole thing would blow up on us, so we mostly left it alone.”
“So are you boys really fixing to go in there?” Carrie asked.
“Yeah, but we have to climb down there and see if there’s an opening. We’re not 100 percent sure there even is one,” Noah said.
Carrie started to fidget and bite her lip, but she kept quiet about the whole thing until she couldn’t help herself. She turned and looked at Rush.
“You need to go down there with them. They could really get hurt down there and there won’t be anyone around to help them,” Carrie said.
Rush took a surprised step back.
“Babe, we’ll be right up here. They can just holler for us if they need us,” Rush said.
“But what if . . .”
Rush pulled her off to the side so he could talk to her alone. “Baby, I know this worries you, but if you send me down there with them, they’re just gonna feel like I’m their babysitter. You have to let those boys be men. That’s what their trip is all about.”
“But they can get seriously hurt.”
“I know, but they are also smart boys and can look out for themselves. And also, like I said, we’ll be up here the rest of the day and into the night. They can just holler for us if they need us.”
Carrie tilted her head in defeat.
“Okay, I guess. But we aren’t leaving until they’re back.”
Rush gently put both his hands on her cheeks and kissed her.
“No problem, babe. We’re here until they’re back. Done.”
He walked back to the boys and gave Joe and Dean another high-five, gave Mark some skin, and then turned back to leave.
“You boys be careful. My girl over there will kill me if anything happens to any of you.”
The boys waved to him and all said okay. As Rush started to walk away Mark yelled for him.
“Wait a minute!” Mark said.
Rush turned around as Mark ran up to him and handed him his jambox.
“Can you hang onto this for me? It won’t get no signal down there and I don’t want it to get torn up,” Mark said.
Carrie smiled at him and took the jukebox.
“It’s in good hands,” Rush said, and then turned with Carrie and left.
***
8
It took nearly half an hour for the boys to make their way to the bottom of the sinkhole. A pit of water had formed in the hole and it was covered by a thick top layer of golden soot. Joe theorized it was just pollution from the coal mine ruins and that the water probably had high levels of zinc or copper, or some chemical compound in it that made it look that way. They could see a few frogs hopping and mating along the top layer.
When they finally reached the bottom, or where the water had risen to, they found what appeared to be a runoff that wasn’t letting the water rise any higher. The runoff had a small opening and there was a lot of loose rubble around it.
Joe and
Mark starting clearing some of the debris and dead brush away, and they were finally able to confirm that their suspicions were right. There was an old mine shaft in there. It was musty and damp from the polluted water runoff, but they would be damned if they weren’t going in. It held all their attention, and the only thing they wanted to do was explore it and see what was left behind.
Joe was the first one to squeeze through the opening, but Dean stopped anyone else from going through until they could get the entrance cleared away. He could see that even for Joe, who was rather small for his age, the opening was a tight squeeze. They had all the time they needed, so why not spend some more time clearing it away?
“Come on, already. It’s pretty cool in here,” Joe said as he shined his flashlight over the leftovers from what was once the main utility entrance for Oarshire’s underground mining operations. Most of the equipment had been cleared away, but a lot useless stuff was left behind, including a metal utility cabinet, broken benches, some old pipe cutters and even a few hard hats with the brackets for flashlights on top of them still attached.
“I’m not letting anyone else in until we clear some of this shit away. There’s no sense in letting the hole close up while we’re in there. Especially if we get some rain and that nasty pit water starts pouring in,” Dean said. But the real reason he wouldn’t let anyone else in was because he was extremely claustrophobic and he wanted help making the entrance wider. All of them knew that about Dean, but they didn’t rag him about it.
“All right, you guys clear it and I’m going to scope this place out a little. I can already see some badass shit down here!” Joe said as he picked up the hard hat. There was still an old flashlight in it, but it was well beyond its years. He started fidgeting with it and broke it loose of the brackets. When he tossed it aside, the metal broke apart on the hard, dusty ground.
